Death of a Lord
by BuzzKill6411
Summary: As Aldrich slept, he dreamt. And he saw death, a man of gold standing upon the bodies of felled demons with a sword of light. And for the first time, Aldrich felt fear. It enveloped him and as he awoke he decided he would devour the Gods themselves and prevent that man from ever holding dominion over him.


Hey guys. I'm alive and still kicking. i know i haven't updated Shingeki in aaaaaaages, but it's still being written... just very very slowly. but i've managed to actually managed to finish it. so here it is. Enjoy.

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Aldrich was a strange being. Once human, a saint, he helped many along the path to enlightenment; to peace. Then he got a taste for human flesh. Soon, he turned from saint to tyrant: calling for sacrifices to be brought to him, to be devoured. Then came the bloating, his body expanded and grew before turning into a deep grey sludge. There he lay, unmoving before he hardened and became a mass of dark, living goo. Then he was taken, brought before a fire waning, and asked to relight it. Feeling power in the flames, he accepted and took it as his. And as his body burned, he was moved to a cathedral and placed in a tall coffin. And there he dreamt.

As he dreamt, he pondered on the flame and a vision came to him: first of a fading flame and darkness, of the deep sea and rolling tides. A long abandoned city and the power of the moon. And then he saw death, a man of gold standing upon the bodies of felled demons with a sword of light. And for the first time, Aldrich felt fear. It enveloped him and as he awoke he decided he would devour the Gods themselves and prevent that man from ever holding dominion over him.

Xxx

If the Saint of the Deep had a face, he would be smiling like a madman as he looked down upon his newest prey: a god. The God of the moon. All his planning had come to fruition and now he had the power of the divines within his grasp.

The deity struggled against the bonds of sorcery that held it to the wall but to no avail; the sorcery of that traitorous pontiff was strong, there would be no escape for the god. Not before Aldrich had devoured all of its power. As Aldrich inched closer to the deity, he delighted in the god's struggles and fear while he gazed on the deific body with eyeless clarity.

The god was dressed in a stark white dress with golden strings and chains hanging from it. The skin on its hands and face was as pale as the moon itself and a golden mask sat upon its head, covering its eyes and reaching out in the symbol of a sun. Snakes that substituted for legs snapped and hissed as the Saint drew closer.

"Leave. Begone. You know not what you do!"

The Saint took great delight in the fear of the young god's voice as, finally, the snakes were ensnared in the Saint's body and the god was caught. Now Aldrich would feast.

The Saint slowly fell into slumber as his body inched up the god's legs. He dreamt of powerful magic of the moon, power beyond comprehension. Power to destroy any being that came to hunt him down and even power to kill that man. He fell into deeper sleep and dreamt of a girl. White of hair and a dress with scales upon her neck. He dreamt of her power that could quell the gods and steal their power like him but he also dreamt of how she would not fight him and would submit to the pontiff. That idiotic, careless pontiff. He knew not of what he had done, giving the Saint such power. He had captured the god of the dark sun and given him To Aldrich, not knowing of the power it would give the Saint. Aldrich revelled on the thought of overpowering the arrogant pontiff and taking complete control of the Boreal Valley.

But first he must devour. He would not be interrupted, the deacons he placed outside his chamber would ensure that. They would be more than enough to defend against anyone coming to interrupt him.

And as he slept, he dreamt one more dream: a dream that terrified him to the core. He dreamt of his body, shrivelled and cold, laying on the floor of his chamber. He dreamt of that damned god sitting on the ground behind him, smiling and reaching its arms out. This was impossible! It could not be true! He'd captured the god, it could not escape. The god was holding its hands out to something, someone, behind him. Who was behind him?! What was going on?!

Aldrich was awoken from his sleep by a sharp pain. Instantly awake, he first spotted the god, tears streaming down its face from the fear and pain of being devoured. But the tears had dried up, its mouth was open in shock and surprise. Aldrich turned quickly and froze. It was that man. He did not recognise him by sight, for the man had changed dramatically from his dream. He was not wreathed in golden light, nor was he wearing the distinct armour of a knight of old any more. Instead he wore clothing much darker than before. No. He did not recognise him by sight. Nor by smell for the stench coming from his own bloated body blocked out all others. No. He recognised this man by the feeling he gave him. The feeling of pure, unadulterated fear. The man stood over him, an image of anger and death. Protecting his torso was a golden chest piece with the face of a dragon sunken into it with leather straps Hanging around and below his waist. Around his shoulders and covering the lower part of his face was a scarf made of interwoven fabrics and dragon scale strips. His head was covered by the distinctive square helmet of one of Aldrich's own cathedral Knights, bringing Aldrich to a single conclusion: this man had been hunting him. But Aldrich could not die now. Not when he was so close to the power to defeat the man!. He would not die!

With a roar of shifting gloop, the mighty Lord of cinder surged forwards to kill the man that threatened his very existence and taught him fear. His attack was met with a boot ramming into his body: a boot made of thick, cream coloured metal distinctive of the onion Knights of Catarina. A hand, gloved in the asymmetrical, shoulder length greaves of the wolf blood watchers rose behind his head to a large fan of weapons tied to his back and covered with a tortoise-like shell of solid rock and chains. The hand gripped the hilt of a large spear and pulled it above his head and out of its bindings. The spear had a large, wide head that encompassed halfway down the hilt and was made from a dull, gold metal. As the man raised the spear above his head, it crackled with lightning and Aldrich broke from his fear a second time and ran, ran towards the valley, away from the damned city they called Anor Londo. But he was too slow. The man appeared in front of him and thrust his spear deep into the centre of the goo and Aldrich felt a second feeling that he had not felt since his transition from human: pain. Somewhere, deep in the gloop and goo of his bloated body, the original form of the Saint of the deep lay, and the spear had thrust deep into his chest, killing him. As Aldrich died, his mouth opened for a final time and screeched as his bloated body shrivelled and coiled into a dry, cold and still mass.

After a moment of stillness, the knight shifted: placing his spear back among his fan of weapons and heading towards the god on the opposite side of the chamber. The god watched in fear but did not struggle; it had realised well into the feasting that it could do nothing: the stumps that were once its serpentine legs were proof of that for what were once beautiful and majestic creatures that grew from where its legs ended were merely green, scaled stumps with black blood pouring forth.

The man knelt by the god's legs and began treating the stumps with cloth and water. The wounds hissed and the god gasped in pain but it did not pull away. It realised that the treatment was to help, not hinder and soon the wounds that had been inflicted closed and stumps started to grow that would soon become new snakes. The man shifted closer and sat by the god as he touched the first band of sorcery that held the god's arm firm.

"Worry not, dear lady Gwyndolin, I shall free you in due course."

As the man flooded sorcery into the bonds, the god of the moon sighed.

"I'm afraid you are mistaken knight. I am a lord, no lady. But I am intrigued, that spear, is it-"

The man cut the god off with a nod of his head.

"Yes your lady-ship. It is the spear of your eldest brother. He, noticing my power, hunted me down and tried to hinder my progress towards you. I had to kill him. I know you may be angry for my murder of your brother, but-"

The god glared, and even though its eyes were covered by the mask, the man shuddered.

"That man is no brother of mine, knight. He is no part of my family. And again I must remind you, I am a Lord."

The knight chuckled softly.

"But of course, you would not remember me from so long ago with such changes to my form. Let me see if this helps."

Slowly, as the first of the manacles holding the god captive was broken, the knight reached his hands under the scarf around his shoulders And, with a click, removed his helmet to show the soft, human face beneath with short, spiky black hair covering the top of his head. The god had no words as it reached out with its free hand to caress the man's face, a look of understanding and shock clouding its eyes.

"It's you. After all these years..."

The man nodded, catching the god's hand and kissing it gently.

"'Tis I."

"But you linked the fire, didst thou not? How art thou alive?"

The man nodded softly.

"I do not know myself. As I linked the flame, it encased me as you said, as you had warned. It covered me and my mind went blank. The next I knew, I was pushing my way out of ashes and towards the light. I was in the kiln again, but it was above ground. There was a being there, a second knight. He let me pass. I immediately went searching for you... But I heard of the plans for your capture by the one called Aldrich. I hunted him down to his cathedral but by the time I had gotten there, I was too late and he had left. I then rushed here to warn you And then I found that bastard-"

At that, the knight spared a baleful glare at the dried up remains of the dead Saint before looking back to the god.

"I found him on you and you captured. The rest you know."

The god smiled and rested its pale hand on the floor.

"Yondric. You have done much. So much. When you left my father's tomb for the final time i believed I would never see you again. You, who showed me kindness and companionship. You ignored my pleads and linked the fire, knowing what would happen. Why?"

At this, the god began to cry again, reaching back up ad clutching at a gold locket around the man's neck.

"Why would you leave me alone? Why would you venture on to certain doom?!"

As the god spoke, it's voice rose and it slapped the man clean across the knight's face, leaving a red print. The man didn't even acknowledge it and clasped the god's hand in his own.

"For you. You need the flame and I was the most fitting to fulfil the undead curse. To rekindle the fire."

"But I needed you!"

"And I am here. I am here for you."

The god calmed and nodded slowly.

"Lady Gwyndolin, if I may ask one final time. May I see your face again, may I remove your mask?"

The god nodded, lowering its head gently as the man lifted the mask to reveal the pale, beautiful face beneath. Flowing, shoulder length hair framing soft cheeks and beautiful, murky grey eyes. Yomdric gently cupped the side of Gwyndolin's neck, his hand resting on the binding holding her head there.

"You are as beautiful as I remember you ladysh-"

He was silenced by a finger to his lips.

"Shut up and kiss me already."

The knight obliged quickly, leaning forwards and capturing the god's lips in a tender kiss, her hand snaking around the knight's neck to run through his hair. They stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity for the two, before breaking the kiss and pulling back. The goddess was visibly out of breath, her frail figure heaving with each breath and her pale cheeks dusted with a blush.

"You... You kiss as well as I remember."

The man nodded

"The same to you Lin."

As the two pulled back, the binding that held the god's head still was broken. Without a moment of hesitation, the god swung her body around and smashed the final manacle in one sharp crack.

"It seems my skill with sorcery still surpasses yours yondric. If those bindings were not so good at absorbing my power I would have broken out and killed that lump of flesh myself."

The man smiled softly.

"Naturally, Lin, but I am a warrior of the sword. Not of the staff"

The god laughed gently and held her arms out.

"That should mean your strong, warrior arms should be able to carry poor, little me while my legs heal, no?"

The knight merely swept the god into his arms and made towards the exit.

"You have grown Yondric. You are far taller than you were before. You are the size of us gods!"

The man nodded.

"That I am. I believe it is to do with me linking the fire. I am taller than most humans now. It's an odd feeling."

As he approached the dead form of the Saint of cinder, the knight paused and Gently placed Gwyndolyn down.

"I still sense power from the beast. Strange. Give me just a minute."

The man went around to the opposite side of the sludge before plunging his hand deep into the body of the Saint. He kept pushing his hand deeper and deeper before pulling out the rotten, infested skull of the Lord.

"This? Why does it radiate such power?"

The god's eyes widened and we reached out towards the skull.

"That... That is Aldrich's cinders. The cinders of a Lord. The last of a lord's power encased as a final form for the flame. Give it to me. I shall do what he planned to do to me and absorb his power for my own."

The knight lobbed the skull up and down a few times before chucking it into the god's waiting arms. She let the skull fall into her lap before placing her hands on it and closing her eyes. Slowly, the ashes started to burn and shrink before they were completely absorbed. Gwyndolin stayed like that for a few minutes, her hands placed upon a now empty patch of air and, right in front of the knight's eyes, she became healthier and the snakes at the stumps of her legs grew faster, heads forming and beginning to move. When the power of the Saint had finally been assimilated into her body, she opened her eyes and held her arms out again.

"His power is mine, and soon I shall be stronger than ever. Let us leave here Yondrick. It grows dark. Soon we shall find my sister and destroy the one they call Pontiff. But now, we rest for I must heal."

The man nodded and swept the god back into his arms, turning to head back out of the way he came.

"Wait. No. My elder sister's chamber is empty. We shall rest there and wait. There we shall prepare."

Turning, the knight walked back towards the still moving lift that would take them up to the top of the hall they were in and to the sun princess' chamber. Standing in the rising lift, he turned his head down to face the god In his arms.

"You just want to lie on her bed don't you?"

The god of the dark moon laughed gently, sticking her tongue out at the knight and winking

"Maybe."

And with that, the god of the moon snaked one arm around the knight's neck and pulled him close for a deep, longing kiss.

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So there it is. Review, Favourite. If it's liked enough i may write more. No promises though. Thanks guys. You're the best.

Buzz out


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